The Pretty Trilogy
by Sare Liz
Summary: L/R The Pretty Trilogy, an angst fest
1. Pretty When You Cry

#  Pretty When You Cry 

I'm so sorry darlin'. I'm so fuckin' sorry. I did it again, last night. I held you in my arms and felt your heat radiate from you as you cried. I fed off it like some sort of vampire, I fed off you in your misery, which is the only way I can. 

Fuck. 

There aren't words, Marie, there just aren't, but seeing as I'm writing this and you're reading it, I suppose I'm trying to find them anyway. So, bear with me, if you can not hate me long enough to get through it. 

I fell in love with you the first time. I'd been back a week when I found you that time out in the gardens. All I did was open my arms and you fell into them, sobbing. It tore my heart that you were going through so much hurt, and I never stopped to think that maybe it wasn't just what you said it was, that maybe what the boy that had upset you was just the straw on the camel's back, and you couldn't take it anymore. Right then I wanted to tear away and rip the shit limb from limb, but I held you cause you were more important than my anger. I held you, and my shirt soaked in your tears, and I wanted to keep you safe forever. I really did never want to let you go. But eventually I had to, and you made me promise not to do anything rash. I figured you meant killing the boy, so I promised myself to wait 24 hours. I shouldn't have. 

By the end of those 24, you hadn't talked to me again. Maybe you were ashamed or something, I don't know, but you wouldn't even look me in the eye. It was days later till you could stay in the same room when I entered it. I wanted to talk to you so badly, Marie. I needed to, though I don't know what the hell I would have said. I don't think I would have told you I loved you, but I would have made damn sure you broke up with whatisface. I could have stopped that whole chain of bad boyfriends for you, and I didn't. 

Sometime between you in my arms and you finally talking to me again I realized that I didn't have a snowball's chance in hell with you, Marie. I figured that all my rage was just me being jealous - alright, I had a little help from Jean on that particular epiphany - and you were a big girl. A woman who could make her own decisions. I could only be there for you as a friend, but if I tried to push you away from the little boy you seemed otherwise content with, maybe you'd hate me for it. If I maimed them, you'd never forgive me. 

I can't stand the thought of that, even now. Every time I think about how much I'm going to make them regret what they said to you, did to you. I think I'm going to make them feel real pain, make them wish they'd never been unthinkingly cruel to you, the woman I adore. And every time I remember that you adore them, and however misguided I think it is, it's the truth. You adore them, and if I harmed a hair on their head, it would be my fault and you'd hate me. There'd be no kindness in your eyes for me, and the next time you cried you would cry alone and that breaks my heart. 

Somewhere along the line I realized that the only time I really had you in all this time was when you were crying on my shirt. 

I fooled myself pretty good, thinking it was all for your benefit, thinking that I was the model modern-friend, not interfering, but just _being_ there. They all praised me for it, Jean, Scott, the whole crew. They all knew you needed someone you could let down your guard with, and here I was all convenient. And I've never lied to myself so well before. I let you get hurt, time and time again when I could have fucking well stopped it, all because I knew you'd never be happy with just me. I was your hero, and when you were hurt I made everything better. A five year old could finish that line of logic Marie - if you weren't hurt anymore, you didn't need your hero. 

I beat the shit out of him, Marie. I did it for you, and I did it for me, and I did it so you could find happiness somewhere else. I know you'll hate me and that's why I'm gone now. I can't bear to see it in your eyes. I love you too much for that, darlin. 

If you ever need to cry again, though I expect you wont if you steer clear of the jackass that's in the medlab, talk to Ororo. I - shit you're gonna hate me double time for this, but I told her what was going on. All of it. She promised me that if he started his shit again she'd fry him, or sweep him out into the Atlantic when no one was looking. Of course, she was of the opinion that I should have told you about all this in person, but I'm a coward, Marie, and if the entire content of this letter isn't enough to prove it to you then me leaving should finish it off. 

I'm sorry, Marie. I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't love you and watch you throw away your heart. I couldn't soak in your tears and act like I didn't want you. I couldn't stand living with the thought that you're pretty when you cry. 

Logan 

  


* * *

Title: Pretty When You Cry   
Author: Sare Liz Gordy [TeknoVamp@yahoo.com][1]   
Archive: Email me and it's yours  
Disclaimers: They aren't mine. Vast and their music isn't mine. Hell, I can't take credit for anything. My beta put me in a writing mood and my best friend gave me the CD. I highly suggest you try it. Vast.   
Notes: I wasn't going to write this. I was just going to email Jenn with a few little lyrics and what they meant to me, and then before I knew it I was angsting. ::shrugs:: Who knew I could be angsting only five months into the fandom? Usually takes me longer than that… it's her fault tho. She made me read Logan/Jean and this is just the aftermath of the rage that inevitably follows when you're forced to watch Jean make Logan growl in bed after sex. I felt dirty. 

Extra Added Warning: "More angst than you can shake a stick at!" -Jenn. 

* * *

all works archived are sole property of author - used with permisson  
please do not rearchive without contacting authors involved  
Copyright 2001 

   [1]: mailto:TeknoVamp@yahoo.com



	2. Pretty When I Lie

#  Pretty When I Lie 

_ I didn't really love you, baby  
Didn't really love you  
I didn't really love you,  
But I'm pretty when I lie  
_

I can see her smiling at me. Well, it's kind of hazy and sometimes I think I see three of her, and sometimes it's just the one. And for some reason she's got Jubilee's coat on. That's kind of strange. And she's tapping her toe on the cement, waiting for me I suppose. We'll just see if I can't wipe that attitude right out of her, eh? 

Oh wait, no that wasn't a good thought. Why wasn't that a good thought? I don't remember. Maybe it doesn't matter. Besides, that wasn't her foot. That was the machine next to me, doling out a little more morphine. That's what Dr. Grey said, at least. Told me pushing at the button wouldn't do any good, it was on a schedule and if I was in real pain, just think loudly and she'd hear me. 

Wouldn't be too good to think too loudly about Rogue then. Logan might hear me too and come back to finish off the job. I don't know why he didn't bother. The scars won't heal. Dr. Grey didn't really say as much, but I'm not as stupid as I look. I don't think. 

But then I'm here, aren't I? 

Oh, right. That's why it isn't a good idea to piss off Rogue. I remember now. And now I wish I hadn't. Fuck. No, don't wanna be saying that word either. Don't wanna be thinking about that, or her, or anything. 

Xavier's probably going to kick me out. I wouldn't be surprised. Makes me wonder why it happened. I mean, I knew. I knew she was strong. I knew she deserved better. I knew she was close to every power-holding person who lived in the mansion. I knew she was best friends with that insane one, I guess I just underestimated his protective instinct. 

Who am I trying to kid? The three Rogues in yellow tech vests? I don't think they're listening anymore. I think it's just me in here with three unsmiling Rogues, the chill in their eye telling me the score. I wasn't thinking at all, and wasn't that the problem? 

Well, I'm certainly thinking now, aren't I? Well, I kind of am. It's hard to concentrate. 

I don't remember what happened, not entirely. 

He came up to me with attitude, I remember that. He'd done it before but nothing came of it before. He told me to keep my hands off her. I think I told him to fuck off. 

The man has long claws. I know pretty much everyone knows that in theory, but I can tell you, he has long claws, and they extend his reach like you wouldn't believe. 

Dr. Grey says I'll always have the scars. Three deep grooves from my left shoulder to my right hip. I think I'm mad at him. I think I'm mad at myself. I think I'm mad at everyone, save Rogue. I've been mad at Rogue for too long. I think she needs a break. She looks tired and cold. Maybe that's why she has Jubilee's jacket on. 

I woke up here, in the medlab after surgery. I wasn't cold. I was toasty warm underneath my blanket, even if my arms were strapped down to the table for my own good. I wonder why Rogue is cold. Maybe it's colder in the lab if you don't have a special blanket. Maybe she hates me now. Can hate make you cold? I should ask Dr. Grey the next time she checks on me and maybe she could leave some blankets for the Rogues across the room. 

I can't feel my legs. Dr. Grey says it's because my knees are broken, but she fixed them. She fixed my Achilles tendon too. She's great. I like Dr. Grey. I wonder if she'll change her name to Dr. Summers, or maybe just pick another color. Like blue - blue is a summery color, don't you think? Or yellow like the summer sun, like Jubilee's jacket that the Rogues are wearing. Or maybe red, like the summer heat, like her husband's eyes. Dr. Red. I like that. I'll have to tell her the next time she comes to check on me. Three extra blankets, Dr. Red, no not for me - I'm just fine. 

There's something else. I know there is. I think Dr. Red told me earlier but I don't remember. Something about another surgery. Or maybe it was the first one. Whatever it was, it stopped the bleeding, I remember that. Stopped the bleeding and put something back on. I can't imagine what, though. I'm a completely whole person - what part of me could have fallen off? 

Rogue wouldn't have wanted me if I hadn't been whole. I could tell. She liked that I could pass, that my mutation was sort of hidden. I don't think Rogue likes me anymore. There's only one now in the corner wearing Jubilee's vest. I think the others must have stepped out to get something to eat. I hope it's something that smells good. I can't eat anything right now, but I can smell it, and it would be nice to smell something, even if I can't eat it. I don't worry about that though. Dr. Red said that I should be eating solid foods in a couple of months, when I can open my mouth again. 

I'm sorry Rogue, I'm tired. I think they might be giving me drugs. I wonder if I'll be an addict. I wonder if Xavier will throw me out. I wonder if Wolverine will kill me. 

I can't believe I was such a moron. He loves you, Rogue. Not in a fatherly pat-you-on-the-head sort of way. I think he loves you more in the candles and rose petals and sweet slow fuck on a fluffy mattress sort of way. He loves you, Rogue. He wants to give you every thing you've wanted, everything I took away from you. He wants to give it back. He wouldn't have done what he did if he didn't love you. Honesty now, Rogue. I didn't really love you. I know I said it, but I didn't. And I'm sorry, cause I know you loved me. Or at least, you tried. 

  


* * *

Title: Pretty When I Lie   
Author: Sare Liz Gordy [TeknoVamp@yahoo.com][1]   
Archive: Email me and it's yours  
Disclaimers: not mine. Also, music from Vast.  
Notes: Okay, Logan refused to consult on this one, but then Angelus strode in and grinned. He had that glint in his eye, the one that always foreshadowed his special brand of fun. This is dark, children, tho not as dark as I'd first anticipated. And it's not the horribleness I was going to write, from say Ororo or Marie's pov. See Jenn? I listen. I do. 

* * *

all works archived are sole property of author - used with permisson  
please do not rearchive without contacting authors involved  
Copyright 2001 

   [1]: mailto:TeknoVamp@yahoo.com



	3. Pretty When You're Mine

#  Pretty When You're Mine 

_ I didn't wanna fuck you, baby  
Didn't wanna fuck you  
I didn't wanna fuck you,  
But you're pretty when you're mine  
_

Shock. 

Complete and utter stark, naked shock. That would be one particularly good way to put it, had I been able to think rationally after I got his letter. My mind wasn't really processing it as I read, my eyes just sort of glazing over the paper, my paper. From my desk. He sat at my desk, took a pen from the jar, a piece of paper from my notebook and sat down and wrote. I couldn't make my eyes focus. The idea of Logan writing a letter to me when he could just come and find me was strange. 

But then, I'd cried on him last night again, and he must notice by now that I avoid him a little afterwards. I just… I always feel so stupid is all. Like why couldn't I just control myself? Why did I have to break down _again_? Why do I _always_ have to cry every time, and why do I _always_ make Logan listen to me, holding me like a child till I feel better? Why can't I just buck up, just once and take it out some other way? Why can't I drink, or fight, or just internalize? Why do I have to go and cry on Logan? 

And look, now he's probably had enough. He probably figures he won't be able to find me till tomorrow anyway, and maybe he wants to spare me the humiliation. I can just imagine it. 'Look kid, you know I care about you, but why don't you talk to Jeannie next time, or 'Ro maybe? I'm here if you wanna shoot some stick though. Come find me, I'll take you riding tomorrow. Logan' Great. Just great. Top off the perfect day of hiding from Logan and my annoying significant other, with the knowledge that I've acted the cry baby for the last time. Perfect. 

And so thinking, my eyes just sort of glazed over till I hit the word 'love'. Great, now a commentary on my choice of guys. Like I don't get that enough from Jubes and Kitty, now Logan has decided to care. Well, Logan, news flash: If I had my druthers I wouldn't be with him, or any of them. But I don't have my druthers and we're not in a little cabin somewhere in Canada making out in front of a warm fire, so there. Make it come true or shut the fuck up, those are your choices. 

But then I decided to actually read that particular sentence. And it didn't make a lick of sense, so I started from the top. 

By the fifth paragraph I was in tears. 

By the seventh I was sobbing and wondering where he was and how quick I could get there. 

At the end of the eleventh my heart was in my throat and all half formed thoughts of quickly clearing this massive miscommunication died quickly and painfully. 

At the end I think my heart stopped, and then I couldn't think anymore. 

I don't know how much time passed before Xavier found me. I was still clutching the letter though. I must have run, because he found me in the forest off to the east of the mansion, and I could have sworn I found the letter on my pillow. 

He called me back to the mansion with his mind. It felt like I was floating, floating all the way back to his office. I didn't come back to myself until I was siting in one of his more comfortable leather chairs. It was then that I realized he'd taken possession of my mind outside, made me come back. It should have bothered me, not that he'd done it, but that he felt the need to do it. It didn't though, and if Erik hadn't been blocked completely he might have been raging right then. 

"Logan is gone," he said. I knew that, so I nodded. 

"He has done your young man quite a bit of harm." Still neutral, Xavier. Good for you. I was having problems not breaking down and crying. I couldn't cry anymore. Logan wasn't there for me to cry on. 

I nodded anyway, knowing that Logan had beat the shit out of him. It wasn't till I heard Xavier's voice in my head, reading off what had to be something out of Jean's medical notes that I realized the extent. He'd walk again, but only barely and with much therapy. He'd eat again, but no solid foods for quite a while. He'd be able to move his feet if the tendons took to the staples the way Jean had hoped. There would always be the slash marks on his chest, and Logan had actually torn one of his nipples to bits. The penis was reattached and with the new technology there is a good chance that he'll have at least 60% feeling back in the area, though no hand jobs for the next year. 

I really wasn't as upset about it as I probably should have been. I think Xavier caught on to that, because he asked permission and I let him in, let him drown under the flood of what had been going on in my life for the last year and a half. 

"I'm so sorry, Rogue." I shrugged. It was no big deal. Sometimes I cried to Logan about it, but that was mainly when I just felt too lonely to deal with everything. Lonely, or something else. I don't know what though. But I'd pretty much asked for it. I mean I teased and I flirted and they're just boys after all. How much control do they _really_ have? Hell, if people had control in this place I wouldn't need my gloves. And besides, I'm too damn sensitive. Isn't that what people couldn't stop saying when I first got here? 

"No, Rogue… Please, try to understand -" 

Whatever. Logan was gone. Logan loved me. Logan listened to me prattle on about all of the boys I wanted to love, all the boys that were fucking me in one way or another, and he loved me anyway. And now he's gone. 

"Charles," I said, interrupting him with the name that the remnants of Erik made me use. "He did it because of me. He knew what was going on, from almost the beginning." 

"Rogue, do you want the boy expelled? I will do it once he is well if you wish it. Either way he will never harm you again." 

I shrugged because I really didn't care. It was like that part of my life was lived and over with now. A switch was flipped, or a page turned, or a button pushed or something, but it didn't matter anymore. All I could think about was Logan, and trying to imagine him loving me, trying to imagine us doing the little things that Jean and Scott did. It sort of worked, but each time I thought of him holding my hand or grinning at me just for the hell of it, I'd remember that he was gone and I'd want to cry all over again. 

And he was gone because I'd cried. It was the only way I'd let him close to me, when I just couldn't take being away from him anymore, when I couldn't take the boys I let fuck me, when suddenly being a possession - their possession - didn't appeal anymore. 

And then Xavier's voice was in my head again, soothing, lulling me to sleep, giving me promises of Logan when I woke. 

  


* * *

Title: Pretty When You're Mine   
Author: Sare Liz Gordy [TeknoVamp@yahoo.com][1]   
Archive: Email me and it's yours  
Disclaimer: Not mine, lyrics to Vast  
Author's Note: Okay, so it's not quite scratching the foof monkey under the chin, which may happen sometime in the future, thank you Nacey, but it's no where near the angst that was with me earlier. 

* * *

all works archived are sole property of author - used with permisson  
please do not rearchive without contacting authors involved  
Copyright 2001 

   [1]: mailto:TeknoVamp@yahoo.com



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